


Personal Sacrifices

by TreeHuggerHannah



Series: Tempest for PbP [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreeHuggerHannah/pseuds/TreeHuggerHannah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two blood mages make a difficult decision based on practicality...</p><p>A brief story about Tempest's parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Sacrifices

"Do you still think it was worth it?" Edgar asked his wife. "We'll never be able to show our faces in Kirkwall again."

Dominica nodded without looking up - there wasn't time to pause in their frantic packing for conversation - but there was a slight beat of hesitation. When she spoke, though, her voice was smooth and confident. "Of course, my love. It is just as your father said. It was worth the cost."

"The templars will be down on us like hounds. They'll chase us to the ends of the world, after we made their own recruits turn on their fellows and slaughter each other." There was fear in Edgar's voice, but also a faint hint of pride.

"Maker rot all the templars," Dominica replied. "They deserved what they got. They have oppressed us far too long. And how fitting that three of their own should be the sacrifice to power the ritual."

Edgar gave her a 'yes, yes' look. He'd heard this before, endlessly, from her and from his own parents and siblings. Now they were forced to flee their comfortable, well-furnished home in the city where he'd been raised and where they'd gained hard-won respectability... and for what? To kill a few fledgling templars who would be replaced within half a year?

Instead of debating the point, though, Edgar looked at their sleeping toddler daughter and said what they'd both been thinking all night. "It will be difficult to flee with an infant. One ill-timed cry and we're all dead."

There was silence for a long time. Even the panicked motion of staple items being tossed into packs and frivolous items casually discarded ceased.

"The chantry will care for her," Dominica finally said. "I've heard they provide well for the children in their charge. She'll have a good education." Her reasoning sounded hollow, even to her own ears, when it came to their baby girl.

Edgar nodded reluctantly. "She'll be safer there, and we'll have a shot at getting out of this Maker-blasted city with our heads still attached to our bodies. We'll go back for her someday, as soon as we can. When she's older, I believe she'll understand."

"How will we find her?" Dominica asked. "Years may pass. She won't remember us, and we may not recognize her."

With a look of steely determination, Edgar scrounged through the remains of his potions workbench, finally producing a vial, a slender-bladed knife, and a sleeping draught. "It is not only the templars who have the means to track a mage using her blood, my love," he replied grimly.

 

***

 

The Sister opened the chantry's side door when she heard the knock, and was just in time to see a black-cloaked and hooded figure hurrying down the steps. For a moment the Sister struggled to understand the scenario she was witnessing, then she looked down. A toddler girl with jet black curls slept peacefully in a large basket. It was not the first time the Sister had found a child abandoned on their doorstep, but she had never come across one who looked so healthy or was clothed in such an expensive dress.

"Wait!" she called. 

The figure slowed, half-turned, but did not stop. The Sister stepped awkwardly around the basket and raced down the steps. Having devoted her life more to study and prayer than to physical exertion, she found the effort left her puffing and panting.

"Wait! Don't leave your child!" As the Sister got closer to the black-robed figure, she saw that the stranger's shoulders were shaking, and she heard the wracking sobs. Still, the departing one - a woman, the Sister now realized - did not turn to meet her.

"Wait... at least tell me her name!" the Sister begged in a last ditch effort.

This time, the cloaked woman did turn to look at her. "Cara," she replied, then disappeared into the night.


End file.
